


forever

by gaydeviants



Series: hankcon came through here [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Birthdays, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hank Anderson, Cancer, Discussions of marriage, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, Lingerie, M/M, Riding, Rimming, Supernatural Elements, terminal illness but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydeviants/pseuds/gaydeviants
Summary: two birthdays.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: hankcon came through here [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1356229
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. connor's birthday

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH BOY so i actually started writing these for hank and connor's birthdays LAST YEAR and never got around to finishing them, so i thought i'd remedy that this year. part of a series, but the smut can be read on its own with minimal confusion. these fics take place before the epilogue of the main fic. it's been a while since ive posted anything for this verse!!! as always, im not rly looking for critique or criticism so pls be nice.

August.

It crept up on them, like the summer heat itself. They tried to ignore it, disregarding the calendar, overtaxing Hank’s old window air conditioner. But, of course, they can't ignore it forever. 

The morning of the first dawns hot and humid, and Hank awakens with Connor plastered against him, sweat slick between them. He groans, pushing his hair from his face, sitting up carefully so he doesn’t disturb Connor, still asleep beside him. The room is oddly quiet, and it takes Hank a moment to realize that's because the window unit has shut off. 

He extricates himself from Connor's grip, and the smaller man curls up the space that Hank just vacated. 

Hank smiles down at his lover before crossing the room, jabbing the power button on the AC with a bit more force than necessary. Nothing happens, and Hank gives it a smack, but that's about the extent of his knowledge. Frustrated, he grabs a pair of boxers from the drawer, pulling them on and exiting the room. Connor stays fast asleep, a rarity. Usually, the younger man is the first one to wake up. 

Hank pulls his sweaty hair up off his neck, securing it on top of his head in a messy knot. Sumo perks up when he sees Hank shuffle into the living room, jumping out of his dog bed and trotting over to him. 

"Hey, boy," Hank murmurs, voice still rough from sleep. Sumo bumps his head against Hank's hand, but he too seems lethargic from the heat. Hank chuckles, opening the side door and letting the dog dart out past him into the early morning sun. 

Hank leaves the door propped open as he wanders into the kitchen, putting some coffee on and starting the machine. It might be too hot for coffee this morning, but he'll find it difficult to start the day without it. 

He fills Sumo's bowl while he waits, and the large dog comes lumbering back into the house as if summoned by it. Hank gets him some fresh water as he digs into his food and then gets his own drink as the coffee finishes brewing. 

The smell seems to draw Connor out of slumber because when Hank turns around he’s leaning against the doorway, a fond smile on his sleepy features. He's wearing nothing but Hank's shirt, hanging loosely off one pale shoulder, his long legs on full display. 

"Hey, you," Connor murmurs when Hank crosses the room, setting his coffee on the counter after only one sip. He grabs Connor’s hips, large palms practically encircling his slim waist. 

"Hey, yourself," Hank whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Connor sighs, nipping at Hank's bottom lip, sliding his hands up his bare chest and around his neck. Hank presses their foreheads together, letting his eyes flutter closed. "Air conditioners busted." 

Connor laughs. "It would appear so." He plays with a strand of hair that came loose from Hank's elastic, twirling it around his fingers. "What are we going to do about that?" 

Hank leans into Connor, humming and sliding a hand up under his shirt, brushing his fingertips over the warm skin of his back. "We could go buy a new one," he murmurs, bowing his head to kiss Connor's neck. Connor tilts his head to the side, and Hank's lips trail higher, his tongue darting out to taste Connor's skin. 

"I don't want to leave the house," Connor whines, shivering as Hank licks the sweat from his neck. Hank chuckles, sucking at Connor’s skin.

“I’ll order a new one,” he mutters, punctuating the sentence with a soft nip. Connor nods, letting Hank walk him backward until he’s pressed up against the counter. Hank grabs him underneath his thighs, lifting him and placing him on top of the counter, positioning himself between his spread legs.

“Gonna be an unpleasant few days until it gets here, though,” he murmurs, palms flat on Connor’s thighs. Connor hooks his legs around Hank’s waist and his arms back around his neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I’m sure we can find ways to make it pleasant enough,” he breathes, and Hank groans, sliding his hands up under Connor’s oversized shirt, pulling it off over his head. 

“Yeah,” he growls, eyes raking over Connor’s naked form. “I guess you’re right.”

Connor grins before biting his lip, the action somehow equal parts seductive and innocent. Hank runs a hand over Connor’s bare torso, pausing to roll one of his nipples between his rough fingers. Connor gasps, his breath catching in his throat as he grips the edge of the counter.

“Get undressed,” Connor begs, already rutting the beginnings of his arousal against Hank’s bare stomach. Hank laughs, shoving his boxers back down his legs and stepping out of them, kicking them off to the side.

“‘Undressed’ is a bit of an overstatement, honey,” he purrs. Connor laughs, which shifts into a moan as Hank wraps a hand around his dick, giving him one slow tug.

“Aaaah,” Connor sighs, letting his head fall forward, resting against Hank’s shoulder. Hank smiles, releasing Connor for a second, only to lick his palm and wrap his hand back around him again.

“You like that, baby?” he breathes, stroking him, arousal simmering all throughout his body. Connor shudders, nodding against Hank’s shoulder, his hips rolling with Hank’s movements. “This what you want?”

“A-anything,” Connor stutters, gasping when Hank pauses to rub his thumb in slow circles over the head of his cock. Hank turns his head and presses a kiss to Connor’s temple, relishing the feeling of him hardening in his hand.

“That’s it,” he breathes, lips brushing Connor’s skin, listening to his quiet gasps. “Good boy.”

“H-Hank…” Connor whines, gripping at Hank’s hand with his own smaller one, not trying to control the speed, just holding onto him. Hank hums, a satisfied rumble in his chest, glancing between them.

“Look, Connor,” he coaxes, and Connor lifts his head from Hank’s shoulder, tilting it with great effort to look down. The sight of Hank’s large hand wrapped around him makes him moan and tighten his legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer.

“Fuck, Hank, that’s so…” he gasps, and he can’t seem to find the words, but Hank agrees.

“It sure is,” he grunts, stroking Connor faster. “Gonna make you come, baby. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Fuck yes,” Connor  _ moans, _ his head tilting back while Hank steadily works him over. “Yes, Hank, fuck…”

Hank grins, pressing a kiss to Connor’s sweaty neck, sucking a mark onto the smooth skin. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathes, tonguing at the hickey he leaves behind. “Be good and come for me, sweetheart.”

Connor whimpers, moaning Hank’s name before crying out, coming over Hank’s hand while he continues to stroke him through his orgasm. “Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Connor gasps while Hank milks him dry.

“That’s it, honey,” Hank purrs, his hand stilling as the tension bleeds out of Connor and he collapses against his chest. Hank catches him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, running his clean hand up and down his back. “You good?”

“Mmmm,” Connor hums, nuzzling his face into Hank’s neck, brushing his nose against his throat. Hank chuckles, reaching for a tea towel and wiping his hand clean, making Connor let out a quiet noise of disgust and swat at his chest. “Hank, we dry dishes with that,” he tuts, exasperated. Hank kisses him before cleaning off his torso.

“We’ll wash it,” he says, tossing it to the side, kissing him again. Connor breathes a happy sigh into his mouth, shuddering when Hank nips at his bottom lip. When they part, Connor slides his hands up Hank’s chest, pushing him back before slipping off the counter, landing on unstable legs. Hank steadies him with a hand on his hip, but Connor doesn’t even try to maintain his balance, instead sinking down to his knees in front of him.

“Oh, Connor,” Hank growls, running his fingers through his short hair. Connor grins up at him, eye level with his erection, licking his lips in anticipation.

“You wanna suck my cock, kitten?” Hank murmurs, stroking Connor’s cheek, getting impossibly harder as Connor moans out an affirmative, sticking out his tongue to lap at the precome leaking from the head of his cock.

“Jesus,” Hank gasps, guiding Connor in closer, dragging his dick along his eager tongue. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

Connor closes his lips around the tip, suckling and tonguing at the slit. He cups Hank's heavy balls in one hand, brushing a thumb over his sac, making Hank let out something that sounds suspiciously like a whine as he leans over Connor to grip the counter. Connor hums, his other hand wrapping around Hank's thick cock, stroking him as he continues to tease the tip. 

"Goddamn," Hank growls, clenching his hands on the counter, widening his stance. The hand Connor has on his balls retreats further between his legs, a finger ghosting over his entrance. 

Hank's hips jerk forward at the contact, pushing his cock further into Connor's mouth. Connor seems to be prepared for that, though, and he swallows him down with a moan. Hank's thighs tense, trembling with arousal as Connor takes him in deeper. 

"Fuck, good boy," Hank murmurs, thrusting shallowly into Connor's mouth. Connor whimpers, glancing up at Hank from underneath his long eyelashes, big brown eyes watering as he pushes himself to the limit. He gags every so often, but his eyes flutter shut with pleasure each time, a blush spreading down his neck and across his chest. 

Connor pulls back for a moment, letting Hank’s cock slip from his mouth, a trail of precome and saliva connecting them. Hank cups his cheek with a large hand, brushing his thumb over his soft bottom lip, groaning when Connor licks the slickness off of his digit.

“Mmm, Hank,” he sighs, mouthing down the side of his dick, nosing at his balls. 

“Fuck, Connor, that’s it,” Hank purrs, knowing he won’t last much longer. “I’m gonna come, baby. It’d be a shame to waste it. How about you get my dick back in your mouth?”

Connor moans, inhaling Hank’s scent before licking back up his cock, taking him into his mouth again. “ _ Very  _ good,” Hank breathes, about to fall over the edge as he sees how wide Connor’s lips are stretched around him. Connor glances up at him and  _ winks _ , pulling off to suckle at the tip.

“Hank,” he murmurs, holding his dick with one hand, licking the head. “Come.”

Hank groans, unable to hold back any longer, coming hard at Connor’s command. The first bit streaks across Connor’s face, and the smaller man moans, quick to wrap his lips back around Hank, swallowing the rest.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Hank pants, curled over top of Connor, groaning as his lover plays with his balls, not wanting to waste a single drop. “God _ damn. _ ” Connor sucks him until he’s spent and oversensitive. 

“Easy, Con,” Hank murmurs, giving Connor a slight nudge back. Connor whines but lets his cock slip from between his lips, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and gazing up at Hank. Hank swipes a thumb over Connor's cheek, collecting the streak of his come marking his skin, offering it to him. Connor sucks his thumb into his mouth, licking it clean. 

Hank already feels weak in the knees, but having Connor’s big, brown eyes focused solely on him has him sinking down to the floor, ignoring how his joints protest. Connor scrambles closer, crawling right into his lap, wrapping his legs around his waist and burying his face in his neck. Hank wraps his arms around Connor, kissing his temple as he catches his breath.

“Good morning to me,” he mutters, and he feels Connor’s body tremble with laughter, the sound as bright as the sunshine spilling in through the windows. He presses a few sloppy kisses to Hank’s neck, and despite the heat and the sweat, neither of them wants to separate. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” Hank breathes, feeling Connor shiver at the praise. “Coffee’s probably gone cold now, though.”

Connor snorts, raising his head to peck a kiss to Hank’s lips. “It’s too hot for that anyway,” he replies. “Put some ice in it.”

Hank chuckles, leaning in to kiss Connor again, licking into his mouth to taste himself on his tongue. Connor sighs with contentment, yielding to him, nearly purring when Hank runs a hand up and down his side.

“I love you,” Hank murmurs when they part, pressing a final kiss to the corner of Connor’s smile. Connor melts in his arms, nuzzling his face back into his neck.

“Love you, too,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Hank’s skin. Hank hums as Connor mouths at his pulse point, beginning to roll his hips. Hank can’t help but laugh, even as the motion makes Connor’s ass drag over his spent cock.

“You’re a menace,” he grunts, grabbing Connor’s hips, stilling him.

“What, don’t think you have another one in you, big boy?” Connor teases, cupping Hank’s face in his hands, giving him a mischievous grin. Hank squeezes Connor’s hips, bumping their foreheads together.

“You ask too much of this old man,” he murmurs, and Connor softens, letting his eyes flutter shut, leaning into Hank’s embrace even more.

“Not that old,” he counters, his voice quiet.

“You keep me young, baby.”

Connor smiles before crawling off of Hank’s lap, standing and stretching. Hank ogles his body as he does, eyes dragging over the expanse of Connor’s slim physique. He knows it’s just wishful thinking, but Connor looks so much healthier than when they first met. He’s not as pale or thin, not as sickly looking. Hank knows better than to get excited about that, though. He’d only be setting himself up for disappointment. 

He hauls himself to his feet, wrapping an arm around Connor’s waist and pulling him close.

“Wanna come shower with me?” he murmurs. Connor’s eyes light up. “No funny business, though,” Hank adds mock-sternly. Connor just winks at him and allows Hank to herd him into the bathroom while pressed against his side. 

* * *

  
  


Connor, of course, is overly-handsy in the shower, but they make it out in one piece. The cool water seems to help tamp down his desire a little bit, and it feels good to rinse away the sweat and other bodily fluids they’d ended up covered in.

Back in their bedroom, the temperature seems to be rising with the late morning sun, and they don’t bother getting dressed. Connor slips into one of his favorite pieces, a short, delicate robe, made of silk and lace, obviously designed to drive Hank mad. It’s pale blue and somehow makes Connor look even more ethereal than he already does. He likes to lounge around the house with it tied loosely around his waist, wearing lace panties underneath it. Or sometimes nothing at all.

He raises his eyebrows at Hank, putting on an innocent smile even as his robe slips down off his one shoulder. Hank sighs, unable to resist crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Connor, pressing his front against his silk-covered back.

“Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he murmurs, nipping at his earlobe. The silk feels luxurious on his naked skin as he rubs against Connor. The smaller man sighs, letting his head fall back to rest against Hank’s shoulder. Hank trails soft kisses over Connor’s exposed skin, dragging a hand down his side, tugging at the sash around his waist.

“I wanna fuck you while you wear that later on,” he whispers, kissing a freckle right below Connor’s ear, making him moan and whine.

“Yes, please,” he gasps, angling his head so they can kiss properly. As Connor’s tongue begs entrance to his mouth, Hank’s thoughts turn once again to just how damn  _ lucky _ he’s been over these past five months. He opens his mouth to let Connor in. He knows their time together is drawing to a close, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Connor taught him how to live again, and despite the cruel twist of fate that put a countdown on Connor’s life, he still gets to have moments like these, and that makes it all worth it.

Thinking about that reminds him of something else that’s been on his mind lately, and resolves to talk to Connor about it sometime today. But for the moment, he’s content to stand there, wrapped around Connor, kissing him breathless.

They part to catch their breath, and Connor stares at him, his gaze full of affection. He’s sure the expression must be mirrored on his own face, open and brimming with adoration. 

His hands slide down to Connor’s silk-covered hips, squeezing once before letting go so he can wander over to their dresser, pulling open a drawer to find something to wear. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs, newer ones that he bought after he and Connor got together. He had begun to feel a little self-conscious in his ratty old boxers next to Connor and all his silk and lace. Connor had insisted that he didn’t care what Hank wore (and made his preference for him not wearing  _ anything _ very clear), but Hank had  _ wanted _ to put in a little effort to look good for him. It made him… happy.

He turns around and sees Connor running his eyes over him, and it amazes him that Connor looks at him like  _ he’s _ the catch, even now. 

Connor licks his lips, his eyes pausing Hank’s chest, the swell of his gut over his waistband, and again at the outline of his dick through his thin underwear. Hank snorts, drawing Connor out of his reverie, making him flush a pale pink. It’s lovely.

“I happen to think  _ you’re _ very gorgeous, Hank,” Connor tells him, folding his delicate arms over his chest. It’s Hank’s turn to blush at that. 

“Come on,” he says, to change the subject. “I think there’s a fan in the spare room. It’s hot as fuck.”

* * *

The spare room is certainly different than when Connor first moved in. It’s still in a bit of disarray, but much better organized, all things considered. Connor had helped him go through a lot of the junk, and it had been difficult, at first, but cathartic in its own way. The old, uncomfortable cot was gone, replaced with a much nicer twin bed, making it a guest room, in theory. Sumo seemed to think it was for him, though, and slept in it more often than not. 

Sometimes Alice would stay overnight if Kara had to work third shift. Connor was great with her, and Kara actually  _ had _ taken up his offer for babysitting help despite his less-than-honest way of initially approaching her. Kara and Connor were good friends now, which made something warm bloom in Hank’s chest. It made him so happy to see Connor thriving.

They’d gotten a few cheap shelving units and used them to organize anything that Hank wanted to actually keep, and donated what they could. But a lot of it had been junk, and they’d ended up throwing away quite a bit. Still, he kept important things, memories of Cole, and a few things he wasn’t ready to get rid of yet. He knew that there was no reason for him to keep the crib, but he just couldn’t bear parting with it. Maybe someday.

There had also been a desk under all the junk, which Connor had restored a bit and now used for his laptop. It was covered in picture frames and other clutter, but it was an organized mess and so very Connor. In one corner sat a mason jar that held a single red rose. It was still as perfect as the day that Hank gave it to him all those months ago, after he’d died on Kamski’s kitchen floor. It was a reminder of all the things they’d been through together. A reminder that it was all real, and they’d come out on top despite everything.

All of their reorganizing made it much easier to search the room for what they’re looking for, and Connor only has to shift a few things before he finds an old, oscillating fan on a lower shelf. He makes a show of bending over to pick it up, making his robe ride up the backs of his pale thighs, exposing the lacy bottom of his panties. Hank can’t help but stare.

Connor catches him, a cheeky grin on his face as he straightens back up. Hank smiles back even as he rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a little shit,” he chuckles. Connor winks as Hank relieves him of his burden, taking the fan from him. It’s old, and it’s pretty heavy. “Where do you wanna set up for the day?” 

Connor hums, thinking it over, toying with the sash of his robe. “Living room?”

Hank agrees, and the two of them make their way out of the spare room, preparing to spend the day doing nothing. Connor clears some space on the coffee table, and Hank sets down the fan, plugging it in and setting it to rotate. Connor darts into the kitchen as Hank sets about opening the windows, trying to get some airflow. It doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.

Connor comes back into the living room as Hank collapses onto the sofa, carrying Hank’s abandoned mug of coffee and one of his own. Hank gives him a grateful smile as he accepts the mug, a warm burst of fondness blooming in his chest as ice cubes clink against the sides of the cup. Connor smiles back, settling onto the sofa beside him, leaning into his space despite the heat.

They sit there, sipping their coffee in silence for a while, browsing through their phones, enjoying the other’s company. Hank orders them a new air conditioner, and a second one, too, for the living room, so the one in the bedroom might not have to work as hard.

Hank glances over at Connor. The other man is absorbed in whatever he’s looking at on his phone, a gentle smile gracing his lips. His robe hangs off one shoulder, exposing his pale collarbone, and Hank can’t help but snap a picture of him. These moments are so precious, and he wants to preserve them forever in any way that he can.

Connor’s eyes flick away from his phone, full of a softness reserved only for Hank. He sets his phone to the side, closing the distance between them and giving Hank a slow kiss.

Hank blindly sets his mug on the end table, and they exchange gentle, slow kisses that taste of coffee. Connor nuzzles his face into Hank’s neck when they part, and Hank presses one last kiss to Connor’s temple, sighing. The atmosphere is so peaceful right now, and Hank hates to break it by bringing up an uncomfortable topic, but he knows he needs to.

“Hey, sweetheart, can we talk about somethin’?” he murmurs, leaning back so he can meet Connor’s gaze. Connor looks at him, eyes inquisitive, taking one of Hank’s large hands in his own.

“Of course, Hank,” he replies, rubbing his thumb back and forth in soothing circles on top of Hank’s hand. “Is everything okay?”

Hank sighs, mulling over how to say what’s on his mind. “Yeah… well, I dunno, I just…” he pauses, reconsidering. He decides to just rip off this particular bandaid. “It’s your birthday soon.”

Connor frowns, his face taking on a closed-off look. He looks away from Hank, squeezing his eyes closed and inhaling, taking a moment to regroup. He exhales and opens his eyes, giving Hank a trembling smile.

“So it is,” he murmurs, biting his lip in contemplation. Hank cups his cheek with his free hand, brushing a thumb over his sharp cheekbone.

“Look,” Hank starts. “We don’t have to get into it right now. And you can take some time to think about it if you want, but I just wanted to know if you wanted to do anything for it. I know it’s… it’s complicated and it might not feel like a time to celebrate but-”

Connor cuts him off, pulling him in for another kiss. It’s deep and slow, making Hank’s toes curl with satisfaction. Connor breaks away, lacing their fingers together, giving him a sweet smile.

“I just want to spend time with you,” he says, pulling Hank’s hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Hank chuckles. “You do that every day. Sure you don’t wanna do somethin’ special?” Connor shakes his head.

“That  _ is _ special, Hank!” he insists. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

Hank melts, emotion clogging his throat. “Fuck, you can’t just say shit like that,” he mutters, failing to suppress a grin. Connor crawls closer to him, sliding right into his lap with total disregard for his personal space. Hank doesn’t mind at all.

“I mean it, though,” Connor says, grabbing Hank’s face and running his fingers through his beard. “I don’t want any presents or anything. I just want to be with you.” Hank pulls the tie on Connor’s robe, letting it slip open, sneaking a hand into it to run across Connor’s warm skin. Connor shivers despite the heat, humming and going pliant in Hank’s embrace.

“Can I at least get you a cake or something?” Hank teases, dragging his hand up and down Connor’s side.

“I’d rather just eat frosting off of you,” Connor replies, voice serious. Hank barks out a laugh, letting his hand rest on Connor’s thigh.

“You’re too much,” he says, overwhelmed with affection. Connor grins, kissing the tip of his nose before resting his head on his shoulder.

“A cake would be lovely, Hank,” he says after a moment, and Hank nods, giving his thigh a squeeze.

“We don’t have to make a big thing out of it if you don’t want to. Just… I’d feel bad if we totally ignored it.”

Connor nods, too. “No, I understand. I definitely have… mixed feelings about it.”

Hank hums. “Yeah, I get that,” he murmurs. Things have been getting a bit tenser as September gets closer, marking the end of Connor’s estimated time. After a late-night, tear-filled conversation a few weeks prior things have definitely started to feel… different. Easier and yet significantly harder at the same time. But they don’t shy away from talking about the difficulties they are going to have to face like they used to.

“And… I know this is stupid,” Connor starts, playing with the sash on his robe, sounding shy, “but I’ve been feeling so  _ good _ lately. I almost can’t believe that I’m going to die soon.”

The words still send a shock of pain through Hank. It doesn’t seem real. There’s no way that Connor, sweet, beautiful, full-of-life  _ Connor,  _ is probably going to be dead in less than two months.

_ Dead _ . 

Hank exhales a shaky sigh. “It’s not stupid, honey,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Connor’s neck. “I was just thinkin’ the same thing earlier. I know better than to get my hopes up, but…”

Connor nods. “I think after my birthday I’d like to see a doctor. See if the six months estimate I got originally is still accurate. I don’t have a doctor here in Detroit, but-”

“I’ll get you in with my doctor,” Hank tells him without hesitation. “His name’s Josh, he sees a lot of the guys at the station. I’m sure he’d take you on if I explained your situation to him.”

Connor smiles. "Thank you. That would be great." He rests his head against Hank's shoulder, closing his eyes. "I'd told myself I wasn't going to see a doctor again, that there was no point to it. But now…" 

Hank nods. "A lot changed, baby. I understand." Connor yawns, his face scrunching up as he snuggles into Hank's embrace even further. 

"Yeah," he sighs. Hank's already starting to sweat with Connor on his lap, but he just wraps his arms around him tighter and holds him close. 

"Tired already, baby?" he teases, just to keep the worry out of his voice. Anytime Connor gets lethargic, hell, anytime he so much as sneezes Hank's anxiety shoots through the roof, certain that it's the beginning of the end. 

"No," Connor grunts, even though they both know he's lying. "Just resting my eyes a little." 

Hank smiles, shifting Connor around so they can both stretch out on the sofa and relax. He's a bit tired himself, the heat making him feel sluggish. Hank sprawls out on his back and Connor curls into the space at his side, draped halfway across his body. Hank runs a hand up and down Connor's silk covered back, watching as the breeze from the fan makes his short hair flutter. 

"A nap might be a good idea, actually," he murmurs into Connor's dark hair. "We got nothin' else goin' today." 

Connor hums out an incoherent agreement, and Hank knows he's already halfway unconscious. There's something so precious about Connor like this. He rubs his cheek along Hank's chest like a cat, exhaling a happy sigh before his breath starts to even out. It only takes a moment before any remaining tension leaves his body, and Hank knows he's fallen asleep. 

"Rest, sweetheart," Hank whispers, letting his own eyes slide closed, too. He might just take his own advice.

* * *

It takes a few days for the new ACs to get there, and each of them is passed in a lazy kind of stupor, relaxing as the heat makes it too difficult to do much else. Hank wakes up one morning to find Connor out in the side yard, lounging in an inflatable pool, wearing a tiny bathing suit. He laughs as he joins Connor in the pool. They have very little time to themselves before Sumo discovers them, but the big dog’s enthusiasm somehow just makes the day even better, and the three of them pass the hottest hours in the overgrown shade of their side yard.

Time passes that way, slow and lazy in the summer heat, and before they know it the 15th has arrived. Hank wakes up early, making coffee and setting out the cake. Not exactly the healthiest breakfast, but he thinks Connor will appreciate it.

Connor pads into the kitchen sometime later, dressed only in some tight black boxer briefs. Hank eyes his body, hungry for more than just cake. Connor smiles at him, and then smiles again at the spread Hank’s prepared for breakfast.

“Coffee and cake, huh?” he asks, sliding into his seat across from Hank at the table.

“Hell yeah. Happy birthday, honey,” he says, reaching across to take Connor’s hand. Connor laces their fingers together.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Hank can see the conflicting emotions on his face. Hank pulls his hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. 

“Let’s just enjoy the day,” he murmurs. “No expectations, no worries.”

Connor smiles. “I’d like that.”

They eat their breakfast in silence, and Hank cleans up afterward despite Connor’s protests.

“It’s your birthday, you’re not doin’ anything today,” Hank insists, kissing the top of his head on the way over to the sink. “You said no presents, so I’m takin’ care of you all day.”

Connor sneaks up behind Hank as he washes the dishes, wrapping his arms around his waist, nuzzling his face between his shoulder blades.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice still sleepy. Hank smiles into the sudsy water.

“I love you, too,” he says, finishing the last few dishes before drying his hands. “Is there anything you wanna do today?”

Connor hums, considering it. “I think I’d just like to spend the day in bed. With you.”

Hank grins. “I’ll never say no to that.”

He leads Connor back to their room, after making sure that Sumo is taken care of. He closes the door and they both strip off their clothes before crawling under the covers, curling around each other. Their new air conditioner hums in the corner window.

“You sure this is what you wanna do today?” Hank asks. Connor rolls his eyes and kisses him, hard and deep. Hank groans, resting a hand on Connor’s hip, tracing his hip bone with his thumb.

“Okay, okay, message received,” Hank laughs when they part. Connor smiles at him, snuggling closer, pushing a leg between his thighs. Hank grunts.

“Oh, is  _ that  _ what you have in mind?” He asks, voice low as he starts to rock his hips, grinding against Connor’s thigh. Connor grins.

“Maybe.”

Hank rolls Connor over onto his back, hovering above him. “I’m taking care of you today, remember?” he murmurs, rutting down into the cradle of his hips. Connor whines.

“And how do you intend to take care of me?” he breathes, looking up at him from under hooded eyes. Hank pretends to think about it.

“What I’m gonna do,” he breathes, leaning close enough that his lips brush Connor’s as he speaks, “is ride you until you forget everything but my name.”

Connor shudders, his eyes going wide. “Oh."

Hank glances at him. “Is that okay?” They don’t do this very often. Hank isn’t as limber as Connor is.

“I’d love that,” Connor breathes. Hank grins, throwing the blankets off of them and sitting up, straddling Connor’s hips. His dick rests against his stomach, already hard and leaking, and Connor looks dizzy with arousal as he stares up at him.

“Just lay back and enjoy it,” Hank murmurs, reaching for their bedside table and grabbing the bottle of lube. Connor does as instructed, and Hank drizzles some of the lube into his fingers, reaching around behind to open himself up. The sight makes Connor whine.

“I want to see,” he says, and Hank laughs, even as his face flushes with arousal. 

“Yeah, okay,” he breathes, grunting as he adjusts himself, turning around on Connor’s hips and straddling him in reverse. “God, I’m so old,” he laughs as his joints protest.

“Nonsense,” Connor says, giving his ass a swat. Hank bites his lip to hold back a groan.

“Christ, Con, keep doing that and we won’t even get to the main event.” Connor seems intrigued by the idea but is quickly distracted as Hank slides one slick finger into himself.

“Oh,” Connor sighs, and Hank looks over his shoulder, watching Connor watch him. He works his finger in and out, putting on a show for Connor, before adding a second one, stretching himself open.

“Hank,” Connor moans, running a hand up his ass. “Keep going.”

“Yeah, you like watching me finger fuck myself, don’t you?” Hank breathes. Connor exhales a stuttering breath.

“You look beautiful.” Hank flushes down his neck and to his chest at the praise. Trust Connor to take his teasing and turn it into  _ this _ .

Hank stretches his fingers, adding a third before long. Connor moans again.

“Hurry,” he urges, the hand still on Hank’s ass gripping tight. “I want to be inside of you.”

Hank knows he can take Connor easier than his own thick fingers, and he pulls out with a groan, turning around again to face Connor. He takes the lube, squirting more onto his hand and using it to slick up Connor’s erection, stroking him slowly. Connor whines and squirms, desperate for him.

“You ready for me?” Hank murmurs, leaning down to give Connor a quick kiss. Connor breathes a quiet  _ yes  _ against his lips before Hank pulls away.

Hank adjusts his position, taking Connor’s cock to line it up with his entrance, watching him the whole time. He lowers himself down, seating himself on Connor’s cock in one swift movement, groaning at the feeling. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, resting a hand on Connor’s chest. Connor stares up at him, looking reverent as he squeezes his hips.

“Hank,” he whispers. He runs his hands all over Hank’s body, touching every bit of him that he can. Hank lets him, adjusting to the feeling of Connor inside of him like this. 

“That feel good?” Hank murmurs, circling his hips. Connor bites his lip and nods, looking wrecked already. 

Hank clenches around him and Connor whines, nails digging into his hips. "Oh, fuck." 

"Think you can handle this?" Hank teases, sliding one of his hands up his chest to play with his own nipples. Connor just watches, as if hypnotized. 

Hank rocks his hips, using the give of the bed to his advantage, unable to hold back a moan. Connor moans, too, loud and needy as Hank begins to move. He lifts himself up off of Connor before sliding back down, fucking himself on his cock. 

"Fuck, that's good," Hank pants, starting out slow. He needs some time to adjust, and he has a feeling that Connor does, too. 

He can't hold back for long though, and soon enough he's picking up speed, riding Connor in earnest. Connor's hands are all over him, his thighs, his hips, his stomach, his touches bordering on reverent. 

"Oh, Hank," he gasps, thrusting his hips up to meet him, fucking him harder. "You feel so good." 

"Christ, baby," Hank grunts, taking everything Connor gives him. He adjusts his angle, searching, and then - 

"Ah, fuck," he groans as Connor hits his prostate dead-on, making a white-hot burst of pleasure ripple through him. 

"Right there?" Connor asks with a grin, and Hank leans over, brushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "right fuckin' there." 

He kisses Connor as he rides him hard and fast, and soon they're both lost in the pleasure of it. 

Hank reaches between them, wrapping a large hand around his own cock, jerking himself off while he continues riding Connor. Connor moans at the sight. 

"Yes, yes, Hank," he gasps, watching Hank stroke himself. "Come all over me." 

Hank groans, working his cock faster. "Keep talkin' like that and I will." 

Connor runs his hands up and down Hank's sides, over the swell of his stomach. "You look incredible. Bouncing on my dick like this. Better than any birthday present." 

Hank shudders as Connor's words go straight to this cock. "Almost there, Con," he tells the other man. Sweat makes his hair stick to his nape. 

"Just let go," Connor breathes, staring up at him. The combination of his words and his heady stare proves to be too much, and Hank comes with a loud grunt, spilling his release all over Connor's torso. Connor moans, thrusting up into him a few more times as he drags a hand through the mess on his stomach, sticking two fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. 

"Fuck," he whimpers around his fingers, shaking undone beneath Hank, coming inside of him. Hank groans at the feeling. 

"That's it," he murmurs, stroking Connor's cheek. "Fill me up." 

Connor whines, thrusting his hips once more, spilling into him. "Atta boy," Hank grins, leaning in and kissing him. He can taste his own release on his tongue as he licks into his mouth. Connor is eager to share it with him. 

"Mmm," Hank hums, getting lost in the feeling of Connor's mouth on his own. Connor sighs against his lips, tangling his hands into his hair, holding him close. They kiss for a long time, making out on top of the messy sheets before Hank finally pulls away. 

"I'm gonna be sore tomorrow," he laughs as he crawls off of Connor, feeling his release leak out of him. His legs already feel stiff, and the muscles in his thighs burn. None of that matters when Connor smiles at him. 

"I'll make sure to take extra good care of you, then," he promises, making room beside him. 

Hank curls up in the empty space, draping an arm over Connor’s torso, resting his head on his chest.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he murmurs, kissing his neck. Connor hums.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, tangling a hand into Hank’s hair. “I’m glad I get to spend my last one with you.”

The words make tears well up in Hank’s eyes, but he blinks them away, not wanting to let anything ruin their day. He pushes down the feelings of sadness, instead basking in Connor’s warmth, enjoying the time they do have together.

They don't know that in less than a month their lives will change forever.


	2. hank's birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor takes care of hank on his birthday, and they receive some exciting news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY!!!! Hank's turn to be birthday boy. this one has a LITtLE more plot in it, but can still be read without knowledge of the main series, i think. i have no medical knowledge and did only the most basic research for this so sorry if its grossly inaccurate we'll just ignore that i made it as vague as possible. the important thing is the banging, right???? right.

September.

Connor wakes Hank on the morning of the 6th by straddling him, grinding against his morning wood until his eyes flutter open. Hank groans, grabbing onto Connor’s hips while Connor leans down to kiss him, deep and slow. He presses their foreheads together when they part.

“Happy birthday, Hank,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Hank’s as he speaks. Hank hums, reaching up and cupping Connor’s cheek with one large palm.

“I’ll say,” he rumbles, voice hoarse from sleep. Connor smiles, reaching over to grab the lube, slicking up Hank’s erection. Hank grunts as Connor strokes him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“I know you said you didn’t want a present,” Connor says, finally satisfied with his handy work, “but this is something we can both enjoy.” Connor positions himself over Hank’s cock, lining it up with his entrance. Hank swears as the head of his dick nudges against Connor’s slick hole, already loose and prepped for him.

“Jesus, Con,” Hank sighs. Connor hums, lowering himself down, slowly sinking onto Hank’s length. He gasps, moaning as Hank stretches him to the limit, filling him up. It’s always like this at first. Hank’s big, and no matter how many times he’s been inside of him before, Connor still needs time to adjust. He loves it.

“That’s it,” Hank purrs, petting Connor’s thighs. “What a good boy. Got yourself ready for me, taking me like a champ…” Connor makes a small sobbing noise as he seats himself fully on Hank’s cock, and Hank takes one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs, and Connor nods, giving him a squeeze in return.

“Incredible.” Hank smiles up at him, groaning as Connor circles his hips, trying to get used to the fullness. “I fingered myself open, imagining you were inside me the whole time.”

Hank’s hands slide to Connor’s slim hips. “I coulda helped you with that, kitten.”

Connor lifts himself up before sinking back down, starting to ride Hank at a languid pace. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Hank hums, using his grip on Connor to set the pace, bouncing him on his cock. Connor moans, resting his hands on top of Hank’s for better leverage, working in harmony with him.

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” Hank says, rocking up into him with gentle thrusts. Connor moans again, sliding his hands off of Hank’s and up his own torso, pausing to play with his nipples. Hank groans at the sight. Connor rolls the buds between his fingers until they pebble as he flushes under Hank’s heated gaze.

“Touch me,” he whispers, grabbing one of Hank’s hands and bringing it up to his chest. Hank doesn’t hesitate, pinching a nipple until Connor whines, writhing on his cock. Hank growls, surging forward and sitting up, leaning back against their headboard without dislodging Connor from his lap.

Connor yelps, adjusting to the new position, grabbing onto Hank’s shoulders. “Fuck.”

Hank chuckles, mouthing at one of his nipples, sucking and licking, making Connor moan. Hank doesn’t stop thrusting into him, and one of his large hands sneaks into the space between them, wrapping around Connor’s dick.

“Oh, Hank,” Connor gasps, almost overwhelmed. “I was supposed to be taking care of you -” He trails off into a moan as Hank strokes him in time with his thrusts.

“You’re takin’ great care of me, baby,” Hank purrs, letting go to trail kisses across Connor’s chest and over his neck. “Got that tight little ass around my cock like you were made for it. Couldn’t dream of anything better.”

Connor shudders, using his grip on Hank’s shoulders for more leverage, fucking himself on his cock. He’s determined to make Hank come first, but the drag of Hank inside of him is intoxicating. He clenches around him, trying to pull him impossibly deeper.

“Greedy,” Hank breathes, sucking at his pulse point. “You like that fat cock, don’t you, baby?”

Connor whimpers, biting his lip and rolling his hips faster, wanting to make Hank lose some of his composure. It backfires as his cock bobs between them, drawing Hank’s attention.

“Look at you, honey.” Hank’s deep voice and praise always do _something_ to him, making his toes curl in pleasure. “You’ve got such a pretty little dick, here, let me help…” 

Hank wraps his hand around Connor’s erection again, jerking him off. Connor cries out each time Hank thrusts into him, tears building in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Hank murmurs, voice fond and reverent. “It’s okay, baby. You can come.”

And try as he might, Connor can’t hold back any longer. He spasms in Hank’s lap, tears running down his cheeks as his orgasm rolls through him. Hank continues to pound into him, milking his cock at the same time. He’s close now, too. Connor can tell by the way his rhythm falters as he clenches around him.

“Fuck, Hank, don’t stop,” he whines, overstimulated but desperate for Hank to find his release inside of him. Hank growls, fucking him hard and fast, and it’s less than a minute before he’s groaning Connor’s name, biting down on his clavicle as he empties his spend deep inside of him.

This might be Connor’s favorite part, feeling Hank shake apart because of _him_ , watching the usually controlled man completely let go.

Connor pants against Hank’s mouth, coming back down. Hank gives his bottom lip a playful nip before grinning at him.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he breathes, pressing kisses to Connor’s sharp collar bones, a soft apology for biting too hard. “Happy birthday to me.”

Connor laughs, resting his forehead against Hank’s. A few moments of quiet pass before Hank’s alarm goes off, startling them out of their reverie. 

“Sorry, honey,” Hank says, shifting Connor off of his lap. Connor whines as Hank slides out of him, leaving him feeling empty. “I got an appointment. After that, I’m all yours.”

Connor nods, flopping down onto the bed, sprawling on top of the sheets. He would never begrudge Hank his therapy appointments.

“Tell Doctor Lucy I say hello.” 

“Will do, honey,” Hank says, stroking his cheek before shuffling out of the room. Connor watches him, eyes glued to his ass until he disappears into the bathroom. He hears the shower turn on a moment later, and then he hears Hank humming to himself over the spray of the water. It makes him smile.

He stretches luxuriously, all the way down to his toes. He feels warm and sated, but he doesn’t want to fall back to sleep. He’s got a few plans he needs to enact after Hank leaves. And - 

He sits up with a start, scrabbling for his phone, grabbing it from the nightstand. He’s expecting a call today, and he almost forgot. He checks the lock screen, but there’s no notification for a missed call. He sighs, equal parts relieved and disappointed.

Doctor Josh is supposed to call today with the results of his recent tests. He hasn’t mentioned it to Hank yet, but he’s hoping the doctor will tell him he’s got a few more months left to live. A few more months to spend with him. That would be the best birthday present he could give the other man.

The water in the bathroom shuts off and Connor flops back onto the bed, moments before Hank enters the room, a towel around his waist. He raises an amused eyebrow.

“Have you moved at all, baby?” he teases, drying his hair with the towel. Connor sticks out his tongue, running a hand down his torso and trailing his fingers through his own spend drying on his stomach.

“Maybe,” he says with a wink. Hank watches him for a moment before busying himself getting dressed. When he finishes he grabs his damp towel, using it to clean Connor up a bit. The gesture feels so intimate, so tender, that it makes Connor’s eyes flutter shut.

“Love you, baby,” Hank says, leaning down to give him one more kiss.

“Love you, too,” Connor breathes against his lips. Hank gives his hand a gentle squeeze before leaving the room. Connor hears him let Sumo out and fill his bowl, and then the front door closes, announcing his departure. 

Connor lounges for another minute before crawling out of bed and changing the sheets. Then he wanders down the hall to the bathroom to get a shower. He waits until steam fogs the mirror before stepping in, humming under the warm water. He takes his time, washing away the mess from earlier. 

After he’s satisfied, he steps out of the shower, drying himself off before wrapping up in Hank’s old robe. He doesn’t want to get dressed until he’s finished making Hank’s cake.

Sumo greets him when he enters the kitchen, sniffing around his legs, tripping him up as he tries to cross the room. Connor laughs, exasperated, trying to dodge the enthusiastic dog. “Sumo, honestly,” he tuts, finally making it to the counter and reaching for the cake he prepared yesterday. He just has to put icing on it. “I’m trying to do something nice for Hank. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

Sumo tilts his head in question, watching Connor gather his supplies. Connor isn’t the best at baking, but he thinks Hank will appreciate the effort. Connor frosts the cake, licking some of the sweet icing from his fingers as he goes. It doesn’t take long, and soon he’s covering the cake back up. He sits it on top of the fridge so Sumo won’t get to it. The dog looks at him with big, pleading eyes, but Connor just shakes his head.

“I know you already ate, you can’t fool me,” he says. Sumo whines, flopping onto the floor, looking defeated. Connor rolls his eyes with a smile before making his way back to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He’s got one more surprise in store for Hank today.

He and Hank had agreed not to exchange gifts for their birthdays this year, but Connor couldn’t resist doing a little something special. It’s not a totally selfless gift. He’s very excited about his new purchase, too.

He heads for the dresser, opening the drawer that holds all his lingerie. At the bottom of the drawer lies a package. Connor smiles to himself, taking out the box, opening it up and pushing aside the tissue paper to reveal his newest pieces.

A pair of black panties and matching bralette are folded neatly in the box, the delicate silk and lace feeling luxurious as Connor trails his fingers over it. It cost a bit more than he would normally spend, but he figures if this is the only birthday he gets to have with Hank then he’s going to make it memorable.

He unties Hank’s robe, letting it slide from his shoulders and pool on the floor. He removes the panties from the box first and pulls them on, pausing to appraise himself in front of the mirror. He tries his best not to get too excited before he’s even fully dressed, but he’s already imagining Hank seeing him and imagining how he’ll take his time _undressing_ him in the near future. The panties come up just below his navel, the dark silk and lace standing out against his pale skin.

The bralette is next. He pulls it on and adjusts the straps before finishing the look with a pair of sheer black stockings. He runs his fingers through his short hair, disheveling it in a careless sort of way.

Connor admires himself in front of the mirror again, turning to see himself from different angles. He feels sexy, delicate and small, looking forward to Hank’s rough hands all over his body.

He’s startled out of his musing by his ringtone. His eyes go wide as he dives onto the bed, grabbing for the phone. He recognizes the doctor’s number on the caller ID. His stomach flutters with nerves as he answers the call.

“Hello?” he sputters, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Connor, hi,” the man on the other end says. “It’s doctor Josh.”

Connor presses his lips together, inhaling. “Hi.” His voice sounds small.

“Listen, Connor,” the doctor starts, and Connor can’t tell by the tone of his voice what the news is going to be. “I’m really sorry this has taken so long, I wanted to double-check everything after the first time.”

Connor makes a quiet noise of understanding. He feels strange, sitting here in his sexy underwear, on the phone with the doctor. He feels exposed even though the other man can’t see him. Vulnerable. 

“The thing is, the first time I looked at your results, I was sure they’d gotten mixed up with someone else’s.” Connor frowns.

“I thought you said they were inconclusive?”

The doctor hesitates. “Well, they weren’t what I was expecting. And once I got your records from your old doctor I was sure something was wrong. But Connor…”

Connor clenches his fist. “Please, just tell me. Is it bad?”

The doctor sounds surprised. “Oh, sorry. I guess that sounded pretty ominous. But no, it’s really great news.”

Connor perks up at that. “How many more months do you think I have?” 

“Well, that’s the thing,” Doctor Josh says. “According to these results, you’re perfectly healthy. There’s no sign of cancer at all.”

Connor goes numb, collapsing down onto the bed. “What?”

“It’s the strangest thing,” the doctor says, sounding baffled. “People don’t just recover from this. If I hadn’t seen your results from your previous treatments I would have thought you were lying. But you definitely _did_ have cancer. And yet, it’s just gone.”

Connor makes a quiet sobbing noise, trying to muffle it with his hand.

“No - no cancer? Are you sure?” he whispers, afraid to believe it.

The doctor makes a noise of confirmation. “Yes, very sure. That’s why I wanted to have your tests and scans redone. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. But your tumor is gone.”

Tears start running down Connor’s face and he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. “I…”

“I’ll want to monitor you closely, though,” Josh continues, graciously acting like Connor isn’t having a breakdown on the other end of the phone. “We’ll want to make sure everything stays this way. But, as far as we can tell, you’re fine.”

“Fuck,” Connor whispers. “Thank you.”

The doctor’s voice is kind. “Nothing to thank me for,” he replies. “Take a few days, and then call me and we’ll set something up, okay?” 

Connor nods, not trusting himself to speak before he remembers the doctor can’t see him.

“Yeah,” he squeaks. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Take care now,” Josh says.

“Okay,” Connor breathes, hanging up before he starts sobbing. His phone slips from his grasp and he stares at the wall for a long moment, letting everything sink in. 

He’s not going to die. He gets to live. To stay with Hank.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, burying his face in his hands as sobs wrack his frame. His body trembles and he hears Sumo scratching at the door, whining, drawn by the sound of his cries. Connor laughs, stumbling from the bed and throwing the door open.

“Sumo!” he gasps, slumping to the floor and wrapping his arms around the massive dog. He buries his face in the dog’s soft fur, crying into his neck.

And that’s how Hank finds him when he returns from his appointment, collapsed in the doorway to their bedroom and clinging to their dog, wearing nothing but lingerie.

“Holy shit, Connor,” Hank gasps, falling to his knees beside him. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Connor releases his grip on Sumo, who quickly makes his escape. Hank brushes Connor’s bangs from his face before taking him into his arms, running a hand up and down his back. “Shh,” Hank coos, seeming out of his depth. Connor focuses on the feeling of Hank’s hand, large and warm and soothing. “Breathe, baby, shh…”

Connor clings to Hank, synching his breath up with his partner, grounding himself again. He pulls back, his cheeks wet with tears, smiling so wide he feels like his face might split in two. It confuses Hank. He wipes the tears from his face with a hesitant hand. 

“What is it, Con?” Hank asks. Connor’s bottom lip trembles and he scrubs a hand over his cheek, trying to wipe it dry.

“The doctor called while you were out,” Connor says. Hank’s eyes go wide and he cups Connor’s face in both of his hands.

“Shit, baby, what did he say?” he breathes, looking anxious. Connor’s face _hurts_ with how wide he’s smiling. He whines, pulling Hank in for a kiss. Hank kisses him back, deep and desperate, and Connor pours all of his elation into the kiss.

“Tell me, babe,” Hank whispers when they part, pressing their foreheads together. Connor pulls back, beaming.

“He said… he said I don’t have cancer anymore.”

Hank’s jaw drops, and he’s silent for a full ten seconds. Connor’s smile falters. “Darling?”

Hank sputters. “I - what?” How is that possible?” Connor can tell that Hank’s going through the same state of disbelief that he was when he first heard, and he can tell he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He’s still not used to having good things happen in his life.

Happy tears run down Connor’s cheeks. “The doctor said it’s not, really,” he whispers. “He’s never seen anything like it. He did the tests and scans twice, he didn’t want to tell me until he was sure. But my tumor is gone. He says there’s no sign of cancer at all.”

Connor can feel Hank trembling. “Baby,” he whispers, his voice tight as he tries to hold himself together. “Is this real?”

Connor nods, and Hank breaks. Tears spill from his eyes as he pulls Connor into a tighter embrace. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, and now it’s Connor’s turn to hold him, rubbing his back in a slow, soothing pattern.

“Jesus Christ,” Hank breathes, his voice filled with joy. “You’re really okay?”

Connor nods, pressing a kiss to Hank’s temple. “It would seem so.”

Hank sobs, burying his face in Connor’s neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he manages to choke out. “I don’t mean to cry. I’m just so fuckin’ happy.”

Connor laughs, squeezing Hank tight. “I understand.”

Hank kisses his forehead. “I just… how?”

Connor shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s a miracle, maybe.”

“Fuck, honey.”

Connor nuzzles his face into Hank’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent. He smells like home.

“I’m almost afraid to believe it,” Connor whispers. Hank grunts in agreement. “The doctor says he wants to monitor me closely. It all feels so fragile.”

Hank kisses Connor’s hair, and Connor can practically feel the nervous elation rolling off of him. Hank cups his jaw, angling his head and pressing a firm kiss to his lips. They kiss for so long that Connor loses track of time. When Hank slides his hand up, carding his fingers through Connor’s hair, something in the air shifts. Connor pulls back with a gasp, panting against Hank’s lips, staring at him with wide eyes.

The scent of roses surrounds them, brief and faint but definitely there. Connor’s brow furrows and he tilts his head in question. “Do you…?” he asks, and Hank nods. Connor knows he’s not imagining it.

Hank’s face splits into a slow grin. Connor thinks about the rose sitting on his desk. The scent of roses that surrounded them when Hank came back from death in Kamski’s apartment. 

“Oh,” he breathes, as he begins to understand. This isn’t a miracle, it’s a gift. 

Hank laughs, loud and joyous, shouting "thank you, Amanda!" before he pulls Connor in for another kiss. This one is more frantic as they paw at each other’s clothing.

Hank’s lips leave Connor’s, trailing down his neck, leaving biting kisses in his wake. Between kisses, Hank laughs, and the sound makes Connor feel like he’s floating. 

“Oh, Hank,” he sighs, tilting his head to the side, giving him a larger canvas to mark. “We’re going to be okay.”

Hank licks a hot stripe up Connor’s neck, leaving him shivering in his lap. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs. “We really are.”

* * *

It takes them a while to calm down, exchanging gentle kisses, basking in the elation. Connor’s mind is going a million miles an hour as he thinks about all the things he gets to do now. All the things he thought he’d never get to experience with Hank because they didn’t have the time. Hank presses one last soft kiss right behind his ear, exhaling a quiet breath.

“I’m so fuckin’ happy, Con,” Hank whispers, tracing his tongue along the shell of his ear. Connor shudders.

“Me too,” he sighs, a joyous exhale as he rests his head on Hank’s shoulder. “God, we could… we could travel. We can go back to work. We could do anything. We could…” he trails off, glancing up at Hank. “We could get married, someday.”

Hank stares at him, seeming lost for words, and for a split second Connor panics, worried Hank somehow won’t want him anymore now that they have forever. But then Hank smiles, shifting Connor in his lap, cradling him against his chest.

“Fuck, baby,” Hank breathes, kissing his temple. “Anything you want.” Warmth flows through Connor as he snuggles closer to Hank, resting his head beneath his chin. Hank takes Connor’s left hand in his own larger one, tracing his ring finger. The gesture brings a soft smile to Connor’s face.

“You’d really wanna marry me?” Hank whispers. Connor laces their fingers together, squeezing Hank’s hand.

“Of course,” he replies, looking up at Hank with wide, earnest eyes. “You’d want that too, right?”

Hank gives him a gentle smile. “Yeah, honey.”

Connor remembers a few months prior, when they had found the old wedding dress in the basement. It had been a bittersweet moment. It seems so long ago.

“Never thought I’d get married again,” Hank says, disbelief coloring his tone. He gives Connor a nervous glance. “I’m not sure when I’ll be ready. And it’s not because I have any doubts about you, or us, it’s just-”

Connor cuts him off with a soft kiss. He understands. He slides his hand up Hank’s face, scratching his fingers through his beard.

“It doesn’t have to be today, Hank. Or even soon. Just knowing that we _can_ is enough.”

Hank makes a quiet noise against his lips, resting one large, warm hand on his waist.

“There’s no rush,” Connor continues, bumping their foreheads together. “We’ve got forever, now.”

Hank’s eyes well up again and Connor cradles his face in both hands, running his thumbs over his cheeks to wipe the tears away. “Hey. I love you.”

Hank sniffs, giving Connor a trembling smile, turning his head to kiss his palm. “I love you, too, honey,” he mutters, voice muffled against Connor’s skin.

Another moment passes and then Hank slides his hand down Connor’s waist to his hip. His thumb finds the skin right above his panties, rubbing back and forth. Connor shivers. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous,” Hank says. Connor laughs, looking down, aware of the fact that his eyes are red and puffy from crying, his cheeks blotchy. “This all for me?”

Connor nods, bashful, as Hank drags his other hand up his stocking-clad thigh. The atmosphere feels suddenly charged, and Connor can tell Hank’s feeling it, too. He parts his legs and Hank’s hand dips between them, stilling on his inner thigh. He traces the outline of Connor’s cock through his thin underwear, making him whine.

“Aaah, Hank,” he sighs, burying his face against his neck, mouthing at his pulse point. “I want to take care of you today. Please.”

Hank pauses, palming him through his panties. “Oh yeah?”

Connor squirms in his lap, unable to keep from thrusting his hips up in search of more contact. He bites his lip and nods, already feeling desperate.

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, then,” Hank purrs, nipping at his earlobe before patting his thigh, urging him up. Connor stands on unsteady legs, and Hank uses the wall to push himself to his feet, chuckling when Connor grabs his hand and pulls him into their room. Hank closes the door behind them and Connor all but tackles him onto the bed.

Hank lands with a startled huff, pulling Connor down into a slow kiss. Connor exhales, tracing his tongue along the seam of Hank’s lips, begging for entry. Hank yields to him, letting Connor lick into his mouth, humming with satisfaction. His large, warm hand slides down Connor’s back, resting at the base of his spine.

Connor shudders, rocking his hips against Hank’s as they kiss, desperate for friction. He reaches down between them, managing not to break the kiss, undoing Hank’s jeans with deft hands. Hank makes a noise of approval, moving his hand lower, giving Connor’s ass a firm squeeze.

Connor pulls back with a gasp, moaning and grinding against Hank’s thigh. He sits up, straddling Hank’s waist and leaning over him, his fingers trembling as he unbuttons Hank’s shirt. Hank catches his hands with his own, making him pause.

“You okay?” Hank asks, brows pinched in concern. Connor nods, smiling at Hank to reassure him.

“I’m wonderful,” he promises, lacing their fingers together. “This feels like a dream.”

Hank smiles, pulling Connor’s hands to his lips, pressing kisses to his elegant fingers.

Connor exhales a happy sigh before pulling his hands from Hank’s grasp, continuing to unbutton his shirt. Hank lets him, relaxing against the bed, groaning as Connor presses kisses to each new inch of exposed skin. One of his hands slides down, over the swell of Hank’s stomach in a slow caress. Hank swears when Connor slips it into his jeans, right into his boxers to wrap around his length. He presses one final kiss to the center of Hank’s chest before pulling back, grinning down at him.

“Is that good?” he murmurs, giving him a slow tug. Hank chokes, leveling Connor with a playful glare, bucking up into his hand.

“Feels fuckin’ great, baby,” Hank grunts. Connor smiles, pausing to pull Hank’s jeans and underwear off of him, letting his cock spring free. Connor licks his lips, eager to get his mouth around him, before pressing a soft kiss to the leaking tip. Hank throws his head back with a moan and Connor smirks, dragging his tongue up Hank’s entire length, tracing the vein along the underside.

“Jesus,” Hank groans, tangling a hand into Connor’s hair. Connor wraps his lips around the head of Hank’s cock, tonguing at the slit, tasting him. “That’s it, honey,” Hank sighs, giving Connor’s hair a tug. Connor moans, taking more of Hank into his mouth.

“Fuck, good boy,” Hank breathes, giving a shallow thrust of his hips. Connor hums, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks, swallowing Hank down. He loves blowing Hank, loves his taste, the heavy feeling of his cock on his tongue, the ache in his jaw. He gets a little too enthusiastic, gagging himself, and Hank gives his hair a gentle tug to ease him back.

“Easy, baby,” Hank murmurs, and Connor whines, wanting nothing more than to choke on Hank’s length. Hank brushes his hair from his eyes, running his fingertips over his cheek. He breathes Connor’s name, hushed and reverent. When Connor glances up he sees Hank’s eyes have fluttered closed. He’d smile if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Eventually, though, Connor pulls back, giving the head of Hank’s cock one last lick. He hums, running his hands up Hank’s thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he purrs, grinning when Hank flushes, quick to do what he asks. Connor grabs a pillow, sliding it under Hank, elevating his hips just enough to get what he wants. He drapes Hank’s legs over his shoulders before gripping his ass, spreading him open.

“Con,” Hank murmurs, exhaling a shaky breath and running a hand through his hair. Connor presses a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh.

“I’m going to eat your ass until you’re desperate for me,” Connor breathes, feeling his face flush at his own dirty words. Hank groans, his thighs trembling around Connor’s head as he grabs onto the blankets with his free hand.

“Be my guest, baby,” Hank sighs, and Connor wastes no time, licking a long, hot stripe over his hole. Hank moans Connor’s name, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Connor hums, licking around his entrance, tonguing at the tight ring of muscle. He takes his time, licking long, slow trails up and down, leaving Hank breathless. He pulls back, trailing kisses up and down Hank’s thigh.

“Touch yourself,” he breathes, making Hank swear.

“Whatever you say,” he pants, wrapping a hand around his cock, giving himself a slow tug. He moans, precome leaking from the head of his dick, and Connor hums out a satisfied noise. He presses a thumb against Hank’s entrance, rubbing in a slow, methodical circle.

“How’s that?” he murmurs.

“Real good,” Hank manages to gasp out.

“Good,” Connor echoes, and then his mouth is on him again, tonguing at his hole. Hank groans. Connor is relentless in his technique, and it’s not long before Hank’s panting, rolling his hips.

“Con, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop,” Hank warns, even as he continues touching himself. Connor gives him one last slow lick and then pulls back, kissing the bend of his knee. Hank releases his dick, letting his hand flop onto the mattress.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, brushing Connor’s bangs from his face. Connor smiles up at him.

“What would you like tonight, Hank?” he murmurs, resting his head on his thigh. “You can have anything.”

Hank sighs, stroking his hand down Connor’s cheek. “You’re too fuckin’ good to me. And I know exactly what I want.”

Connor tilts his head in question. Hank grins at him as he sits up, giving Connor a gentle nudge off of him. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Connor shudders, doing as Hank asked, spreading his stocking-clad thighs to entice him further.

“Christ,” Hank mutters, kneeling behind him, reaching between his legs to palm him through his panties. Connor whimpers, rutting down into his hand.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he whines, making Hank chuckle.

“Trust me, baby, nothin’ makes me happier than makin’ sure _you’re_ taken care of.” Connor shivers, doing his best to hold himself up while Hank runs a reverent hand down his spine.

Connor’s hard in his panties, but Hank only pulls them down enough to expose his ass, leaving his cock straining against the silk and lace. 

“Would you look at that?” Hank murmurs, almost to himself. He leans over Connor, reaching for the lube on the bedside table. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Connor whines, pressing back against Hank, desperate for more.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” Hank breathes, and when Connor looks over his shoulder he sees Hank drizzling lube onto his fingers. He reaches back with one hand, grabbing his ass and spreading himself open, tempting Hank.

“Fuck,” Hank mutters, pressing one slick finger against his entrance. Connor shudders.

“There we go,” Hank murmurs, pressing into him. Connor still feels loose from their earlier encounter, and it’s not long before Hank’s adding a second finger, sliding in and out of him with ease. Hank scissors his fingers and Connor whines, wanting more. Then Hank crooks his fingers, finding that spot inside of him, making him see stars.

“Oh, god,” Connor moans as Hank massages the tight bundle of nerves, making him writhe on the bed.

“Good, isn’t it?” Hank says, and Connor can hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmm, yes, Hank,” he gasps, gripping the sheets in his fists. Hank adds a third finger and Connor whimpers, rocking back, pushing him in deeper. Hank pumps his fingers in and out, leaving Connor a panting, incoherent mess. He feels so good. So full. But…

“Please, Hank,” he whines, desperate for his cock. Hank laughs, sliding his fingers out of him.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purrs, and when Connor peeks over his shoulder again he sees Hank slicking up his cock with slow strokes.

“Fuck,” Hank groans, holding Connor’s gaze as he touches himself. “You want my dick, honey?” he teases. Connor nods.

“Yes, god.”

Hank kneels behind him, spreading him open with one hand, using the other to guide his cock toward his entrance. Connor feels the head nudge against his hole and whimpers, wanting more.

“Please,” he begs again. Hank grabs his hips and starts pushing into him, slow and steady. Connor feels like he’s being split apart, and he loves it. “Oh, fuck, Hank.”

“Jesus, Connor, you feel so good,” Hank breathes in his ear.

“I - aah,” Connor sighs as Hank bottoms out, one rough hand sliding into his panties to work his cock. “Oh, fuck, that’s nice.”

“It sure fuckin’ is,” Hank mutters, beginning to move. He slides out of Connor until nothing but the head of his cock remains before pushing back into him, making Connor’s back bow in pleasure. Connor lets his eyes flutter shut as Hank begins to thrust in and out of him.

“Harder,” Connor gasps, and Hank doesn’t hesitate, pounding into him. Hank’s hips snap against his ass, and the sound is loud in their otherwise quiet apartment.

“Yes,” Connor breathes. 

“You like that, baby?” Hank asks as he slams into him. Connor mewls, unable to form a coherent answer. Hank pulls him up onto his knees, and Connor gasps his name, molding their bodies together. His eyes roll back in pleasure as Hank kisses his neck, continuing to roll his hips and fuck into him.

“Good boy,” Hank breathes between kisses, one hand sliding up his chest and into his bra to play with his nipples. Connor feels a sharp burst of pleasure at the touch, and he shoves his panties down enough to free his dick, moaning in relief. Hank’s other hand is on him in an instant, wrapping around his cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Hank,” he whimpers, feeling so close to the edge. Hank pauses, giving him a gentle push back onto his hands and knees, thrusting into him once more. He leans over him, kissing a spot behind his ear, tracing the shell with his tongue.

“You wanna come?” he breathes. Connor nods, a whine spilling from his lips. Hank chuckles, sucking on his earlobe.

“Well then, honey, you better work for it.”

Connor’s arms tremble with the strength of his arousal as he moans out Hank’s name. Hank goes still behind him, giving his ass an expectant pat. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Connor starts to rock his hips, fucking himself on Hank’s dick. Hank holds onto him but he doesn’t move, letting Connor do the work. This is what Connor loves. Taking care of Hank. Being the sole cause of his pleasure. He moves fast, making Hank groan and grip him tighter.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good,” Hank praises him, one hand leaving his hip to rub soothing circles over his back. Connor moans, fucking himself harder, wanting to push Hank over the edge. He’s almost there himself, but then Hank surprises him, pulling out and grabbing him around the waist, flipping him over onto his back. 

Connor bounces on the mattress, out of breath, while Hank pulls his panties off of him. “Spread your legs.”

Connor does as he’s told, and Hank gets a firm grip on his thighs, nearly bending him in half as he slides back into him. Connor _moans_ , staring up at Hank, holding his gaze. This is his favorite way to make love. He wants to see Hank’s face, to watch him when he comes.

“That’s it,” Hank murmurs, thrusting into him, the franticness from earlier gone. He’s slow and gentle, and the moment is so tender that it makes tears gather in Connor’s eyes.

“Oh, Hank,” he sighs, reaching up and cupping his face, running his fingers through his beard. Hank kisses his fingertips.

“I love you, baby,” he rumbles, leaning down and kissing Connor before he can reply. Connor puts everything he has into that kiss, licking into Hank’s mouth, hoping to convey just how much he loves him, too.

Hank adjusts his angle, and Connor moans into his mouth as waves of pleasure roll through him, making his toes curl. Hank pulls back enough to whisper, “right there?” against his lips, and when Connor nods he kisses him again.

The kiss is long, leaving Connor almost dizzy by the time they part again. Hank smiles down at him, catching his breath, continuing the slow and steady rolling of his hips.

“Touch yourself,” Hank murmurs, making Connor whine and rut up against him.

“I want you to come first.”

Hank chuckles, rubbing a hand up Connor’s thigh. “You’re sweet.” Connor grabs his hand, squeezing it tight.

“Please.”

Hank smiles at him, leaning down and kissing his sweaty forehead. “Okay.”

Connor hums with satisfaction, gasping as Hank begins to rock his hips faster. “Oh!”

Hank leans in, mouthing at his neck, pressing kisses to his damp skin. “God, baby, you feel so good.”

Connor wraps his legs around Hank, urging him in deeper. “Yes, harder…”

Hank complies, groaning as he thrusts into him.

“Con, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Hank warns, and Connor pulls him in for a sloppy kiss.

“Good,” he breathes against his lips when they part. “Come inside me.”

Hank groans, snapping his hips forward once more, and then he’s coming. Connor feels him empty inside of him and he moans, reaching between them and jerking himself off. 

“Aaah, Hank, I’m going to come,” he whimpers, working his cock.

Hank thrusts into him again, pushing his spend in deeper. “Come on, Con. You can do it.”

Connor spasms, his back bowing as Hank’s words tip him over the edge, and he Comes with a moan between them. Hank groans as he clenches around him.

“Fuck. Good boy.”

Connor whines, working his cock, not stopping until he’s milked himself dry. “Fuck.”

Hank lets out a breathless laugh, kissing him once before pulling out, leaving Connor feeling empty.

“Ohhh,” he sighs as Hank’s spend leaks out of him and onto the sheets. Hank grins at him.

“Good?” he murmurs, crawling out of bed. Connor nods, and Hank disappears down the hall to the bathroom, cleaning himself off and bringing back a damp cloth to wipe Connor down. Connor lets him, stretching as Hank cleans him up.

Connor sits up once he’s clean, pulling his bralette off and throwing it to the side while Hank peels his stockings off. Then they curl up in bed together. Connor rests his head on Hank’s broad chest.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers and Hank hums, squeezing him tight.

“Thank you, baby. God, I still can’t believe…”

Connor nods when Hank trails off, rubbing his face against Hank’s chest. “I know.” He presses a huge smile into Hank’s skin, unable to hold back as the euphoria from earlier hits him all over again.

Hank runs a hand through his hair, laughing a little to himself. “I’m so happy.” Connor catches his hand and laces their fingers together.

“Me too,” he murmurs.

They spend the rest of the evening in bed, falling asleep together, ready to wake up tomorrow and start the first day of their new forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!!! you can come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gaydeviants) to yell more abt hankcon!!!!! i hope u liked this fic, it has been over a year in the making and im happy to finally get it published and off of my mind a little bit lol. also, i simmed this [if ur interested. NSFW, obv.](https://twitter.com/gaydeviantsims/status/1288586187532374020?s=20)

**Author's Note:**

> look out for the second chapter sometime around hank's birthday!
> 
> i simmed the end of this chapter [here](https://twitter.com/gaydeviantsims/status/1288871400212578307?s=20), if ur interested ;) NSFW!!
> 
> and as always, u can find me on twitter [HERE](https://twitter.com/gaydeviants)


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